The Cold Never Bothered Me
by Arkarian23
Summary: Having finally lost faith in the Wizarding world and fulfilling his obligations, a dive through the veil leads harry Potter to a new world with new challenges, and hopefully the chance to start again.


**Hi It's me Arkarian with a new story! it's been a while since I stopped writing and a lot has happened since then, most importantly getting my girlfriend who is a major reason for me writing this story. Anyway this is a Frozen/Harry Potter crossover and hopefully I can do my ideas justice. As always reviews appreciated, any ideas welcome but please send them in a pm, they probably don't belong in the review area. Happy reading**

The cold never bothered me anyway.

Harry potter had been called many things in his journey through life. Son, Boy Who Lived, Hero, Martyr, Liar, Saviour, they all meshed together to create a legend, but the funny thing about legends is that nobody can ever agree on the facts.

People thought of the hero of Magical Britain as simply a wizard, uncommonly strong for his age but still, just a wizard. In a way these people might be right, Harry Potter was capable of magic, by channelling spiritual energy through a wand he could cast a plethora of spells to do an infinite number of things. Those people were also wrong. The truth behind the power of a hero and the truth of his story was lost to time and for good reason, because the people of Magical Britain were ashamed.

If a person were to visit Harry Potter as he sat cross legged in a cold dark cell in the darkest pit of Azkaban, they might expect to find an emaciated shadow of the man he once was. There were no records of him ever achieving an anigmagus form which might help ward off the Dementors vile aura and in truth Harry had never attempted to achieve the ultimate feat of transfiguration. How then was there a perfectly healthy and relaxed wizard, seemingly content, in Azkaban's infamous room 001?

The answer was not known to many of the people of Magical Britain, in fact only two people knew Harry Potter's greatest secret. One of them was dead and the other, was Harry Potter himself.

Harry opened his eyes, his glasses had been taken six months ago when he entered the prison, a cruel act on the part of a particularly vindictive guard. A pity then that nobody knew he didn't need them. This was just an example of the secrets that were woven together by Harry Potter and his now deceased teacher, Albus Dumbledore.

Magical Britain thought Harry Potter was raised in the home of his uncaring relatives, a bitter aunt and her magic hating family. They were wrong.

Many thought Harry Potter was introduced to the magical world by the kind hand of Rubeus Hagrid. They were wrong about that too.

Instead of what was considered 'common knowledge' Harry Potter had been raised by Albus Dumbledore himself. The strongest light wizard of his age, a man considered powerful enough in his later years to be a match for Voldemort in his prime. Trained from a young age the Potter heir had been taught the practical aspects of magic. Harry Potter was trained as a soldier, learning combat magics, some thought lost, others considered too difficult to perform by some of the strongest mages alive. Harry Potter was taught about the many laws of Magic and perhaps more importantly, how to break them.

Hiding his talents in Hogwarts was difficult, it was only through glamours and charms of misdirection that he hid his athletic physique from his friends, one Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. Together they had many adventures in Hogwarts, thwarting Voldemort's attempts to rise once more until eventually they managed to rid the world of the Dark Lord permanently, or so they thought. That was when things went wrong.

Hermione Granger was gone, the victim of a jealousy that Harry had ignored time and time again, in the hopes of maintaining a friendship that was fostered on greed, both for power and recognition. Maybe if things had gone differently, if only Harry had stood up for his bookish friend more often none of this might have happened.

Harry opened his eyes, disturbed from his musings by the creak of the heavy door of his cell. Two guards pulled him roughly to his feet and clasped magic resistant manacles to his wrists. With no struggle Harry Potter was led by his captors on the long walk out of Azkaban prison. He could tell they were worried, after all he didn't look like a prisoner of Azkaban, he looked fine, something that with exposure to Dementors almost constantly should have been impossible. Exchanging a worried glance They guided him into a richly decorated office and pushed him into a chair in front of a desk. On that desk sat perhaps the sole reason everything had gone noticeably darker. One Ronald Weasley.

"So finally it comes to this doesn't it _mate?_" he asked, looking over the man before him, "It's almost time for your sentence. I suppose it must be a relief to know you won't be coming back to that cold prison cell," the smirk on his face revealed the barb for what it was.

Harry Looked over the mad face of his first friend, it was hard to imagine what had changed him over the years, perhaps it was just a natural change, perhaps he had been manipulated by outside forces, that didn't matter though. Ron Weasley was a Dark wizard, one of many that turned bad and assisted their Lord in his second return.

"Actually I've never been bothered by the cold," Harry said, his throat raspy from little use in the last six months, "It's been refreshing to be free of all the fame and responsibility for a while."

Ron glowered, even now a year later and after so many changes Harry knew how to push his buttons. "It doesn't matter anyway he muttered, you're going to be dead in a few hours."

"Is that right?" Harry replied dryly, as if he had not just been told he was going to die.

"Yes," Ron replied, missing the sarcasm, "The Dark Lord is ready tomorrow is the day, you are going to be transferred to a Ministry holding cell before your execution by the Dark Lord tomorrow."

"I see," Harry said, once again revealing nothing but the calm he had demonstrated throughout the last year, "so why did the Chief Auror of Azkaban want to speak to little old me then, shouldn't I be on my way?"

"Yeah but I wanted to see the face of the guy who stole my girl before he dies!" Ron shouted, finally losing his temper with the stoic wizard. "You'll be dead where you belong, with her!"

Harry frowned, looking over the red head as his ears became a startling shade of red. "Well you have seen me, happy?"

Ron growled before lunging over the desk, his fist colliding with Harry's nose. An audible snap and a small dribble of blood revealed it was broken. "Ow" Harry said, his voice slightly slurred due to his injury but none the less just as calm and composed as before. "Brawling like a muggle mister Weasley? How uncouth."

Ron scowled at the prisoner for one last time before reeling in his anger as best he could. Turning to the guards who had remained silent through the conversation he ordered, "take him to the Ministry". In silence the guards accepted the special portkey from their boss and placed it against Harry's chest. With a muttered word and a flash of light, they were gone.

The Dark Lord Voldemort was in a good mood, everything had gone smoothly in the last two years. The setback in the battle of Hogwarts had been disastrous but his followers had found him and he had returned again with the blood of his nemesis. Harry potter the child of prophecy, the child who had the power to defeat him. Soon it would all be over, the last few years would be a distant memory and Lord Voldemort would rule supreme. All that needed to be done was cast the Avada Kedavra curse on Harry Potter, one more time.

The Dark lord stood on the floor of the room that had once housed death eaters during their sentencing, the same room Harry Potter had been brought to during the summer before his fifth year. A huge crowd was gathered in their seats watching in anticipation of the execution. One Ronald Wesley was sat at the front of the crown, at his master's insistence, just another way to hurt the last Potter before he died.

"Greetings people of magical Britain!" The Dark lord crowed from his position centre stage, "you have all come today to witness the execution of Harry Potter, the B_oy Who Lived_, today I will be proving once and for all that his supposed feats were merely luck!"

A load roar from the crowd in anticipation of what was about to happen came from behind Ron as he watched for the large double doors to open and open they did. Almost perfectly timed, the final light wizard in Magical Britain entered the room, flanked by two Death Eaters, their faces covered by their ornate masks. Dolohov and Macnair were two of the Dark Lord's few lieutenants who had escaped the battle of Hogwarts. Between them was Harry Potter.

Ron leaned forward in his seat, eager to see the final moments of his former friend as he was marched to the empty chair in the middle of the room. He was pushed down and magical manacles snaked around his wrists holding him in place. A leather strap came from behind the head of the chair and pulled him back by his forehead. The entire room could clearly see his face as he in turn observed them. Ron's smile dimmed though when he looked on the face of the boy who Lived, he didn't look sad or afraid, only disappointed. Pushing back any thoughts of guilt he forced himself to stare Harry, right in his vibrant emerald eyes. He wasn't afraid, he wasn't angry or sad or any of the emotions one might expect of someone about to die. Shivering at a sudden cool breeze of air Ron Weasley became nervous. Something was wrong.

The crowd grew quiet as they looked upon their once saviour. His eyes seemed to pierce their souls. No matter the outcome of this night, nothing would ever be the same.

Voldemort rested his arms against the head of the prisoner's chair, looking down upon him with blood red eyes. "Harry Potter at last we meet for the final time," with a flourish he strode around the chair until he was facing the emerald eyed wizard and then turned towards the crowd, "any last words for the people who abandoned you?"

Harry had not expected the question, but he had thought on what had happened deeply in the months coming to this moment. What would he say?

The crowd unconsciously leaned forward, hoping to hear anything he might say. Harry couldn't help but oblige.

"You the people of the Magical world," he started before pausing, glancing away to gather his thoughts. "You have failed to do what was right, you took the easy path and let fear guide your actions and now nothing can save you."

Nobody had expected such harsh words to come from his lips. They didn't expect him to condemn their actions so deeply. They had no choice didn't they? The Dark Lord would have killed them if they didn't bow before him.

"If you had just stood up for yourselves you could have easily beaten his followers, you outnumber them easily fifty to one. You could have stopped all this from ever happening, _you_ are all responsible for the grave you have dug yourselves and I am not going to help you out of it."

Voldemort watched his nemesis as he spoke, he was wrong, he thought. The people are under no threat, there was no reason for him to harm them, the only people he wanted to kill were the muggles. Shaking off those thoughts he raised his wand, the bone white shaft of wood thrummed with its master's power, if anyone attuned enough to magic was presence they might have heard the mournful keen of a phoenix resonating from its core.

"It's time to die Harry," Voldemort said, "Goodbye."

Voldemort pulled his wrist back, the words of the killing curse fresh on his lips, ready to finally kill Harry Potter.

As he watched the Dark Lord readying his spell with anticipation, Ron Weasley finally saw it. Harry's nose wasn't broken. As his eyes widened and worry set in, that was the moment when Harry Potter revealed the true, power he knows not.

The previously unnoticed wind picked up. A vortex surrounding the prisoner's chain grew out of nothing as Harry sat calmly, as if the sudden buffeting winds were nothing against his skin. The winds grew stronger, they grew more violent and above his head a dark cloud formed. Filthy prison robes which once covered Harry's skin were replaced by a dark grey almost black cloak, beneath it was a jacket and pants in the same colours and black boots. Voldemort took a step back; this was like nothing he had ever seen. In over fifty years of magical experimentation and research he had never seen such a display of raw power.

The sound of thunder in the distance heralded two blinding flashes as lightning struck down on the manacles at his wrists. Harry stood up from the chair, the mangled metal falling at his feet, raising both arms horizontally he released blasts of air from his palms into his Death Eater escorts who flew into the far wall and fell unconscious.

The crowd attempted to scatter crawling over each other to reach the exits. As one man reached the double doors used by spectators to enter and leave the chamber a shield blocked their exit. The magic used to protect them from harm had turned against them. They could not escape, nor could they do anything to affect the outcome of the battle to come.

Voldemort gathered his wits and raised his wand. "Whatever kind of magic this is it will not be enough to save you this time _boy_!" With a flourish he cast three red angry spells at the Boy Who Lived. Harry watched them almost lazily and with the speed and grace born of a seeker, he _bent_ around them like it was nothing.

"You'll have to do better than that Riddle," Harry said with a smirk, "maybe you're losing your touch. Here let me show you how it's done!" Harry raised his hand palm upwards towards the gathering clouds. A crack of lightning struck above the Dark Lord who only just raised a shield in time with barely held against the force of nature. Voldemort retaliated with two more spells then conjured a boulder which he sent flying at his enemy.

Harry dodged easily out of the way of the two spells but barely saw the rock in time to release a blast of wind towards it, halting its advance letting it slide to the floor at his feet. Voldemort cast another spell at the boulder and it exploded. The shockwave produced was enough to push him off his feet and the shards of rock left red lines across his arms and face as they grazed past him. "You were never a match for me Harry!" Voldemort cried.

"I always was Tom," Harry shouted back, "it just took me getting some perspective before I was ready to put you down for good!" Lifting his arms again he released lightning from his fingers which flew at Voldemort who returned fire with the Cruciatus curse. The violent red magic of the curse connected with the blue white of the lightning and a standoff ensued.

"What changed Harry? What made you finally ready to kill me?" Voldemort shouted over the sparks as he pushed back against his foe.

"I realised that hiding who I was wasn't going to let me defeat you!" Harry replied, pushing harder against the red curse, "It was only thanks to my betrayal that I found the strength to do what must be done!"

Both wizards released their spells, ending the standoff and prepared another attack. Voldemort growled and readied himself "_fiendfyre!_" he screamed, releasing intense flames from his wand which took on the form of a giant serpent. Harry's eyes widened at the sight of the huge monstrosity, it was nearly as big as the Basilisk from his second year. At his urging the clouds above their head parted and rain fell onto the demonic flames. The snake writhed but was barely hurt from the insignificant drops of water. It reared back its head and prepared to strike down on its prey.

Harry barely acted in time to release twin blasts of wind from his hands to halt the fiery monster. The snake pushed against the wind but couldn't find a way past it. Harry chanced a glance away from the snake towards the Dark Lord who was clearly concentrating hard to maintain control of the demon fire lest it run out of control.

Seizing his chance Harry stopped the wind and dove forward moments before the snake struck the ground where he was stood. Harry ran forward and tackled Voldemort to the ground, surprising him and forcing his to release the flow of magic into the fiendfyre. Harry made a grab for his wand and Voldemort fought back with all his fury. The two wizards rolled on the floor vying for a better grip on the wand. Harry sent a knee into Voldemort's ribs and he instinctively let go of his wand. Harry too the opportunity and leapt back, the wand in his hand. Voldemort, had no wand, he was defenceless. The rain cloud dispersed leaving the room suddenly quiet.

"it doesn't matter that you win boy!" Voldemort screamed, "you can't kill me even without my horcruxes, after all no _Light_ wizard was ever capable of showing anything but mercy."

Harry stepped back towards the darkest Lord that ever rose and looked down on him straight into red slitted eyes. Harry lifted the yew wand with a phoenix feather core and pointed it at the dark Lord's forehead, "You know in the last year I've learnt that it doesn't hurt to be cold. I'm all out of mercy, goodbye Tom." As dawning horror appeared in Voldemort's eyes it was with righteous fury that Harry Potter said, "_Avada Kedavra!_"

And so the life of Lord Voldemort ended. The wards which had kept the crowd in the stands from interfering flared to life again as the building shook from above. Vibrations from above ground travelled through hundreds of feet of stone and knocked people off their feet as panic set in. Harry looked up in surprise before turning to the crowd still trapped behind the protective wards.

"The non magicals around the world have been aware of your genocide! Russia and America have had enough. As we speak they are announcing Magic to the world, _everybody knows._"

More screaming commenced at his words. "SILENCE!" Harry shouted, annoyed at the clamouring of their voices. "There is nothing you can do, they are bombing any and all known magical locations. Hogwarts will be gone soon as will Diagon Alley and the Ministry. The magical world is no more!"

Dead silence was met at his words. The world that the Magical people knew was at an end, their security and safety gone. Nobody could stand up to a population that outnumbered them over a million to one. With one last glance over the crowd harry turned away, throwing voldemort's cursed wand away as he left the room at a run.

As he reached the elevators Harry quickly pushed the button for the Department of Mysteries. Annoying elevator music blared as he hurriedly tapped his foot, at any moment the entire complex could fall on his head!

Finally the elevator stopped and he hurried out, quickly finding the same round room with many doors. Already knowing which one he needed he ignored the illusion and entered through the door into the veil room.

Suddenly feeling the importance of the chance he was going to take Harry walked quietly into the chamber, towards the great arch with a curtain across it that signified the veil of death. He ran his hand down the arch covered in numerous runes, their meaning lost to time. Another shudder from above made Harry glance upwards, there was no time to waste. "Here goes nothing," Harry muttered before allowing his magic to flow into the arch, he removed his hand to see a solitary glowing rune. Stepping back he saw as the glowing magic spread to the others until the entire rom was bathed in light like on a clear starry night.

Taking a deep breath, Harry prepared himself. "No prophecy to save me this time, here goes nothing."

As the roof above him collapsed, Harry ran into the veil.


End file.
